A meeting was held….limited invites….we few…..we lucky few….

Shariff held court in the back of the homeless shelter….to be young, black, angry, and uneducated…..lethal….

See my brothers, the self professed militant began, This is not no blessing….poverty is no blessing…..

The brothers nodded; shook heads under hoods in agreement, We’s got to be organizin’ up and down the lines my brothers…. let the word be heard….shout it out loud and proud…..Black is back….

An every once in a while glance came from white boys within ear distance, We Niggas now be stronger than ever….We be ownin’ this motherfucker lock stock and motherfuckin’ barrel, motions and shouts of, That’s Right brother,…..mixed with, Preach on now….keepin’ it real….keepin’ it real…

Ain’t no white boy in a business suit got your best interests at stake…..Ain’t none o’ them….Not a one… Bankers…lawyers…. record execs…motherfuckin teachers in schools nationwide…..Teachin’ da’ white man’s history, turns of heads and dragon’s breaths in disbelief….

Shariff paused and pulled his Castro cap down tighter… What you be lookin’ at? Now….what you be lookin’ at?

A white man with idealism waning, just sat still…not a thing to say…no past resume of liberal causes to present….just silence….

I said….What you be lookin’ at?….

A weathered hand ran through matted hair, I don’t know…..I don’t know….